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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622790">Vulpinroid 1.0</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Vulpinroid [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:34:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate history, the planet Kepler-22B, host to anthropomorphic aliens, is being modernised with the help of the humans that has been watching them for decades. After a long protracted war, the former Kingdom of Acorn, now a territory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain known as Kepler, is enjoying a golden age of technological advancement, trade boons and peace. The brokers of this peace are the United Nations of Earth and Kepler-22B, and the guarantors are the space navies that protect lives and cargo, enforce the international laws of space travel and probe into the unknown regions. Among those services is the United Kingdom's Royal Space Navy and one of their newest officers, 15-year old Keplerian vulpinoid Sub-Lieutenant Miles "Tails" Prower is about to begin his career on the destroyer Campbeltown.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miles "Tails" Prower/Maria Robotnik</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Vulpinroid [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>6 May 2052</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Addenbrooke’s Hospital</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cambridge, United Kingdom</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally a patient would be rushed into the accident &amp; emergency department at Addenbrooke’s, especially one that has traumatic injury. But the patient that was just removed from a high-security Royal Air Force air ambulance was brought in with their gurney obscured by a protective red tarp, attendants moving at a calm and sedate pace. The staff and patients in A&amp;E just watched the new patient be pushed onwards to the Treatment Centre, directly to Operating Theatre 1. Once they reached the outer doors, the attendants stepped back and allowed the surgical staff to take charge. Dr. Geralt Robotnik adjusted his glasses as he looked down at the brightly lit operating table while the nurses and surgical technicians lifted the shroud from the gurney. The protective plastic clamshell that it was covering was opened, causing vapor to rise up into the air. The staff all wore hazardous material suits that protected both themselves and the patient. A nurse waved a thermometer over the patient and gave a thumbs up to the watching Dr. Robotnik. He returned the gesture and turned on a small lapel microphone that was clipped to his lab coat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good evening everyone. Thank you for sacrificing your Monday night for this momentous occasion.” Robotnik said. “It’s my understanding that you are about to perform critical life saving surgery on a male John Doe, estimated to be in his thirties. Penetrating trauma within the chest from a gunshot wound.” He quickly corrected himself as a nurse raised two fingers. “Two gunshot wounds, thank you. The patient was placed within suspended animation and airlifted, arriving here after a one day journey. I’m certain Dr. Cowley, were he still alive, would be crowing about it being the Golden Hour rather than the Golden Day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well John Doe isn’t green or little, I can tell you that much.” A dark-skinned man in a red hazmat suit retorted. Robotnik nodded and chuckled softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very red in fact, is he not, Dr. Morgan?” Robotnik asked rhetorically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s likely going to be a lot of red within him too. Rifle calibre bullets, but they look like they were something from one-hundred years ago according to the scans.” Dr. Nathaniel Morgan commented. “I’ve been cramming your anatomical notes ever since you tapped me for the live-alert staff. It’s remarkable how </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span>-like these aliens are. Down to the blood types but the physical structure is different. They look like humanised animals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The correct term would be anthropomorphic, yes.” Robotnik corrected gently. “So hopefully it should be a walk in the park for an experienced surgeon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just your typical poor bloke in the East End on the wrong side of a shooter.” Morgan said dryly. “Right, once anaesthesia is set up and my landmarks are drawn, we’ll crack him open and verify the ECMO circuit. Stop the bleeding, dig out the lead, suction out the blood, warm him up and restart the heart. Then he’s the ICU’s darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you will go down in the history books as the first human surgeon to have successfully operated upon an alien lifeform.” Geralt adjusted his glasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just you wait, I’ll be trumped by some poor bygone sod who worked on one in Roswell all those years ago.” Morgan rolled his eyes. He looked to the anesthesiologist who looked over the ECMO equipment on the outside of the patient’s body and gave a thumbs up. Once a line was drawn down the centre of the patient’s chest, Morgan picked up his knife and looked down. “Start the clock and watch Cambridge’s leading vascular surgeon cut into a cherry popsicle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>7 May 2052</b>
</p><p>
  <span>The beeping was the first thing that he noticed. It was regular and slow, a sound he had never heard before. Then there was the unpleasant sensation of something lodged into his throat. Opening his eyes, the patient almost immediately regretted doing so as the bright fluorescent light blinded him. He slowly opened his eyes again and blinked, adjusting to the brightness. The next thing that he noticed was the feeling of many cables against his body. There were several connected to electrodes on his scalp and lines running from his arms and chest. His arms were tied down as well, making the patient anxious. Then he saw the alien, a light skinned being with blond hair and a prominent mustache, wearing round-framed glasses. The alien wore a white coat over grey scrubs. He looked over at another alien who was similarly dressed, one that the patient somehow could intuit was female.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we can extubate him.” The first alien said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Extubate? The patient watched as the other alien removed a piece of tape and then pressed another tube connected to a small machine into his throat. It seemed to suck something out within. Then the tube seemed to shrink, the alien slowly pulling it up and out. The patient reflexively coughed while the first alien poured something into a glass, moving closer and dropping a straw into it. The patient recognised what was within, it was safe. He slowly drew the liquid within and felt the dryness in his throat beginning to finally be quenched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know our language.” The patient said softly. “But I do not know what extubate means.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two aliens looked at each other, then back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remarkable.” The first said. “I think that’s all for now, nurse.” He sat down beside the patient. “First, I’d like to assure you that you are safe. We’ve taken you away from that battlefield. You are in our world now, what we call Earth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the ones who took the other bodies, weren’t you?” The patient asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s probably right.” The alien acknowledged with a nod. “We had to use the bodies to figure out how your bodies worked, to see if they worked differently from our own and how. The information I got from that is why we were able to save your life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This place, what is it? Your ship?” The patient asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hardly. No, this is a hospital. It’s where our sick and injured are brought for healing. No special magic or incantations, it’s all very practical and scientific.” The alien advised. “I am what is called a doctor, it’s my job to heal others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you also take the dead.” The patient pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dead can still be of use to help with healing. Through death we can understand the mechanisms of life and in some cases, even prolong it. The organs of a dead person for instance can be put in another person’s body as a replacement.” The alien mused. “I started in internal medicine, the healing of general illnesses, then I became interested in the process of life itself and specialised in genetic medicine. When we came across your world, I began a project to study your people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what would you do with us?” The patient asked. “About our war? Are you going to just come in and take over? Invade?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all. We come in peace. We come to learn and understand your world. And perhaps in time, we can bring your war to a peaceful end. It’s been going on for some time, yes?” The alien nodded slowly. “That however is not up to doctors, but to our leaders. I’m going to handle your recovery and then I will have some questions for you. One I will ask now, if I may.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on.” The patient said, looking the alien in the eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is your name?” The alien asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Sabre of the Knuckles tribe. And what is yours, </span>
  <em>
    <span>doctor</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am Geralt, Geralt of the Robotnik tribe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>9 May 2052</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see my star patient is improving rather well.” Dr. Morgan commented. After releasing Sabre from his restraints, the alien, more accurately the </span>
  <em>
    <span>echidna</span>
  </em>
  <span> as he called himself, was eating. At first he was allowed cooled soup and monitored for any signs of discomfort or allergies. On the subject of allergies, he was also subjected to an ELISA test by an allergist. Presently, Sabre was in the process of chewing through toast in the course of his breakfast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the surgeon who repaired your injuries.” Geralt explained. “A gifted man with steady hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for preserving my life, surgeon.” Sabre sat up slightly. “If only you were in my world. Many of my fellow echidna might still live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was planning to ask you more about this war that you mentioned.” Geralt said, settling down in a chair. “But before I go on, I would like to ask your permission to record this account.” He produced a small device. “This is a machine that would record your image and voice, that way it cannot be misrepresented.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well, you may record it.” Sabre said, watching as Geralt activated the device.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Dr. Geralt Robotnik here at Addenbrooke’s Hospital in Cambridge with the subject known as ‘Sabre’, recovered from a battlefield on the planet Kepler-22B. Today is 9 May 2052, a Thursday. It is-” He consulted a wristwatch. “Seven minutes after eight in the morning, Greenwich Mean Time. Sabre has been with us for the past three days, recuperating from emergency surgery. It’s my understanding that we recovered you after you were injured in battle, is that correct?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” The echidna said, nodding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What brought this battle about?” Geralt asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In the Acornian calendar, the Long War began at the end of the Sebastian regency and the beginning of the Frederickian. That was fifteen transits from now.” Sabre explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Transits?” Geralt thought that meant years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The time it takes for Mobius to make one complete transit around Mobia.” Sabre explained, confirming the human’s theory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So fifteen years as we would call it. What happened?” Geralt pressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Acornians are considered to be the major power of the planet. They held dominion over all with their technology, but they had been insular for some time. They had come to our home, the great Floating Island where our tribes had lived for generations. The Acornians finally had the means to do so with their airships. They forced their way into sacred ground and stole important heirlooms that belonged to our race. Namely seven stones of power, what we call Chaos Emeralds that worked in tandem with a large Master Emerald. With the Chaos Emeralds disturbed, there was some sort of reaction and the island began to break apart. Those that survived either came into the Acornian airships or they managed to survive the fall. They lost their king, Sebastian and blamed us.” Sabre explained. “Since then, they have fought to destroy us, to cut us down to size. Their efforts however have united our tribes which were previously in disharmony. Other powers on Mobius also sought to end their hegemony. We began to adapt to their ways while also determining new ways to make the process costly for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seven gems,” Geralt said quietly, looking at Dr. Morgan. “Well that starts to make sense. The Warp Gate which the ARK controls, came online in 2048 and the power needed to generate the wormhole came from seven gems. He’s finally answered that question for us, what they were and where they came from.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you do if you won the war? What were your goals?” Dr. Morgan asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We would want the Acornians to leave us alone, that is what we always wanted.” Sabre answered. “But ultimately if we were to win, they would be declawed to where they could not wage such a war against the world like this again. We have no desire for their treasure. We are fighting for our right to </span>
  <em>
    <span>exist</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I almost want to get an Acornian to hear their account.” Geralt murmured softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Imagine if he spoke before the United Nations.” Dr. Morgan said. “It sounds like they would benefit from the deployment of the peacekeepers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a massive Gordian knot that certainly needs to be untangled. I’m more concerned about what they’re going to do with him once he’s up and mobile.” Geralt whispered. “Imagine if they told us to send him back, he would be back where he started to likely get shot again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I certainly would not want my hard work to be so quickly reversed.” Morgan agreed. “He would likely have to stay here on Earth, an immediate celebrity assuming they lift the secrecy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And even if there is no peacekeeping mission, I wouldn’t think that certain nations or organisations would sit idly by to let this war continue as it is.” Geralt pointed out. “They speak our language or we speak theirs. Imagine if one of those private military companies broke the No-Contact Treaty and struck a deal with one of the two sides.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We broke the NCT,” Morgan mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were given an </span>
  <em>
    <span>exception</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the NCT, there’s a difference.” Geralt countered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of war would you say they are fighting anyways?” Morgan asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got drone footage right here.” Geralt raised his tablet up. “Honestly it’s all very First World War in a way, but also mixed with Vietnam. The Acornians, those are the fellows in grey, they like their trenches and their barbed wire. The echidnas, they seem more like the Viet Cong but better organised, yet both sides have about the same weaponry. I shudder at the idea of what damage they could do with the next generation of warfare.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or the one after that. We came very close to blowing our planet up as it was. We had Kennedy and Khrushchev. No such thing for them I wager.” Morgan said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we don’t really know whose side is the right one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ll each say that they are, such is the nature of war.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>30 April 2085</b>
</p><p>
  <b>South Island Command Headquarters</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kingdom of Acorn, Kepler-22B</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kepler-22 System</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Long War appears to be coming to a swift conclusion soon. Despite the breakthrough that the so-called Allied Powers have made into the heart of the Kingdom, the morale of our valiant armies has not broken. The king himself has decided to lead the offensive against the invading Allies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Turn that damn thing off,” Major Jules Ogilvie grumbled. The major was a cobalt blue Acornian hedgehog with brown eyes and he felt miserable, the pills he took in the morning for his headache didn’t seem to have any effect. He rose up to his feet and paced around the vast ‘war room’, squinting as the glare from the large electronic board that dominated the room seemed to be part of the harbinger for his headache. The radio was definitely a contributor as well. Morale not broken? How he wanted to drag the speaker to the battlefields to see the ruined vehicles and bodies. The Allied Powers had brought out new armored vehicles and weapons which let them cut through the Acornians like a hot knife through butter. Acornian tanks were no match between being too large of a target, too slow, constantly malfunctioning and their armor easily decimated by the more nimble, better armored and effectively armed opposition. They even had smoke screens and the ability to shoot </span>
  <em>
    <span>through</span>
  </em>
  <span> their own smoke accurately. Some had special anti-vehicle rockets as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just about as bad were the troop carriers and infantry fighting vehicles. Deadly accurate autocannons, coaxial machine guns and their own anti-vehicle rockets made engagements with Acornian equivalents to be a bloodbath. Only a tank could come close to threatening those but the AVRs made short work of them. The echidna’s primary weapon was an automatic rifle that was reliable in different environments. As the war went on, they had suddenly made leaps over the Acornians and fought like a professional force. All in all, it snowballed into the echidnas literally marching their way to Mobotropolis and the king definitely was not leading any counter-offensive. He was coming </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span> to decide what to do with his remaining forces. Personally, Jules wished that his plane would go down in the drink. But if one of the king’s lackeys ever caught wind of his thoughts, or that of Colonel Prower’s, they would be told to face a wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at an air warning radar and sighed. No such luck today, no Allied airplanes or helicopters were making sorties around here. For all the money dumped into this place, it was well defended. It made for a nice little cozy bunker for the King. It wasn’t contained within a standard building, but blasted into a mountain which dominated South Island. There was enough supplies as well as an underground aquifer and enough power from an atomic reactor to ride out the end of the world. Ironically, this was also where such orders to end the world were given. Major Ogilvie heard the frantic clapping of boots against the floor and recognised who they came from. He turned his gaze away from the big board and looked at the uniformed female vulpinoid. She had light brown fur and intense blue eyes framed by standard military issue round-rimmed glasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he?” The fox snapped. Jules was not the type to be a stickler for regulations, she knew he would not dress her down for not addressing him formally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Down there in the pit.” The hedgehog pointed towards a taller fox in the same grey uniform that they all wore. The patch on their upper arms all signified that they were part of the Royal Acornian Army’s Strategic Rocket Force but it wasn’t so long ago that Jules had the patch of the 1st Armored Guards Regiment along with his boss, the male that he pointed out to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the king?” The female reached into an inner pocket on her jacket, unscrewing the cap to a pill bottle. She plucked two capsules out and handed them to the hedgehog, who took them gratefully with a swallow of coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh he’ll be here soon enough. Where did you find these? I thought the Family was hoarding all the good medication.” Jules inquired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was owed some favors.” Captain Rosemary Keiden explained glibly as she walked down into the pit, called such because it was set within a lower level on the floor. The fox that was pointed out to her was idling fiddling with an unlit cigarette. She reached into a pocket and produced a lighter, opening it with a telltale </span>
  <em>
    <span>clink</span>
  </em>
  <span> before sparking it. The other fox turned and lit it, inhaling sharply before looking up at the big board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t let him commence the operation.” Keiden murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is a distinct difference between should not and cannot, Captain.” Colonel Amadeus Prower replied. “In this case, it is should not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sherman wrote a program.” Keiden reached into another pocket, producing a cassette. “If it’s executed from the central computer, at the moment when the launch codes are given then the entire system crashes. It would buy time, the king would have to negotiate a settlement if my weapons do not work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were I a different man you know that this conversation would lead to a far less pleasing circumstance for you.” Colonel Prower admonished. “If anyone was to hear, it’s sedition at a minimum. Treason at worst.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amadeus, what would it matter if the world is no longer in a state to sustain life?” Captain Keiden retorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know!” The colonel snapped quietly. “Ever since you came to me and disclosed what you did. That is why I requested to take over SRF. There is not going to be a launch, at least if I have anything to say about it. It will still be a holocaust without the ballistic missiles, if he has bombers and ships armed with launch capability, he will use them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then perhaps it’s not the missiles that should be disabled but the man ultimately pressing the button.” Keiden put in, morosely. “Are you going to at least stay out of my way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have I done any differently?” Prower countered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Keiden shook her head and reached out to take his hand, squeezing it lightly. “I have to go now, Amadeus. I have to feed this program in.” She stepped away and strode past Ogilvie, who started down into the pit himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been playing with fire ever since you met her.” Jules chided.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve all been playing with fire, Ogilvie. And that fire is going to burn us in one way or another.” Amadeus looked up at the clock. “Have you called your wife?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bernie left for Knothole.” Jules explained. “I haven’t heard a lick since but I’m sure Charlie will make sure she stays safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know we haven’t locked down yet.” Amadeus flickered an ear. “I could give you a pass if you wanted to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It might as well be desertion though.” Jules looked at the status board, staring at the icons for the silos scattered on the map. “Besides, you need all the help you can get.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your wife’s about to pop your child out any day now.” Amadeus prodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No child should have to live in a wasteland, I’m at the best place that I can be.” Jules stared at the fox and Amadeus could see the commitment in his eyes. He reached into a pocket, palming a small sheet of folded paper and handing it off to the hedgehog, who closed his hand into a fist. Without another word, the two parted and Jules moved out of the pit, unfolding the paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Watch her</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He caught a nearby elevator and stepped into it, going another three levels down where the central computer was. After passing through a security checkpoint, Jules saw Rosemary sitting at a terminal, her cassette slotted in. She turned her seat to face the hedgehog, who caught a glimpse of her sidearm, held in her left hand and concealed under the table. He heard the cassette reader click and grind as it read her program and began to push it into working memory within the large tower-like appliances lined up in arrays.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish we had upgraded to the experimental thin-mags.” Rosemary grumbled softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thin-mags?” Jules asked, looking down at her gun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are these large thin squares containing a thinner magnetic disk. Faster than tapes.” Rosemary looked at the terminal and sighed, now seeing signs that her program was beginning to run. A few moments later the lighting in the room turned from white to red as the lighting system switched bulbs. That got the fox’s attention as she rolled over to another terminal, punching up a duplicate of the big board display. “I wasn’t expecting any theatrics from Sherman.” Then an icy feeling ran down her spine. “We just escalated to a full automatic release.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you have,” A new voice broke in. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>familiar</span>
  </em>
  <span> voice. “I thank you Captain for making my job considerably easier. You have expedited the process for me. My security service has eyes everywhere, Captain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sherman’s program.” Rosemary started to move back towards the first terminal to pull the cassette out but at that moment a shot rang out, shattering the terminal’s monitor. Jules reached for his own sidearm and scanned around, looking for the shooter but before he could yank it out, another shot cracked and he felt a sensation akin to being hit in the stomach with a blunt object. Rosemary hit the floor and started to crawl towards the hedgehog, who groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get up to main control, you have to warn the colonel.” Jules whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They probably got to him as well.” Rosemary shook her head. She pulled the hedgehog’s gun out of its holster, but he yanked it from her hands, looking back up. On a scaffolding there was a silhouette and he thought he saw a rifle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to give you covering fire, you make a beeline for that elevator.” Jules said. Before she could argue with him, he squared up the silhouette and fired. Despite the disorientation her ears ringing, Rosemary broke away from him, stumbling like a drunk. She pointed her own gun up at the same target and fired as well. Reaching the elevator, she stabbed the call button and heard a soft ding as the doors slid open. More gunfire could be heard, and as she faced forward, Rosemary could see the muzzle flashes from the hedgehog’s pistol before the doors closed. Her body tensed as she checked the magazine, preparing to come out of the elevator shooting. What she saw upon exiting though was chilling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Colonel Prower was slumped against one of the pit’s terminals, a knife intersected with his left eye. Across from him was the dead walrus who had handed off the program that Rosemary had plugged in. She looked forward at the big board as the operators were transfixed upon it. There were lines vectoring out from the launch silos, missile icons starting to move in an upwards trajectory. Red x symbols indicated where their targets were and there were several right on the facility. Rosemary dropped her gun and knelt down beside Amadeus. She noticed that he was still breathing, but there were also gunshot wounds in his chest and abdomen. The two must have struggled for the gun at first, so the colonel likely went for his knife and managed to get his gun back before being stabbed, reflexively hitting his target. She held the other fox’s body, shaking her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was a step ahead of us the whole time.” The colonel whispered softly. Rosemary closed her eyes and prepared herself, knowing in minutes the missiles carrying her atomic bombs would be coming down upon them. Regret filled her mind, but at the same time she came to grips with the idea that someone else would have been in her shoes. The atomic genie was going to be loosed from the lamp sooner or later. The echidnas were likely going to be praying to their deities, the Ancient Walkers. Others as well, hoping that at the last moment that some god would spare them from disaster. Rosemary knew differently though, there was no such thing. Not when one fox can become death, destroyer of worlds with one project.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re going out!” An operator called out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course they’re going out!” Rosemary snapped out loud. “That’s what they’re meant to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Captain. There’s payload loss across the board.” The operator said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Payload loss?” Rosemary slowly opened her eyes and looked at the big board. Sure enough the icons seemed to disappear during their upwards trajectory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reports are coming in from all over the country, from observation posts, even from the air.” Another operator said. “It’s hard to describe, they say that some sort of beam is destroying the missiles. Multiple beams.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t aware of any anti-ballistic missile systems.” Rosemary murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is a lot of electronic chatter in the upper atmosphere.” Another operator said, making an adjustment. “Ma’am, I hear </span>
  <em>
    <span>voices</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put it on the speakers.” Amadeus groaned from the floor. Rosemary looked down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The colonel needs a medic, as does Major Ogilvie down in computer control!” she called out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn the medic, who’s talking?!” Amadeus raised his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Aegis Control, is there anyone down there?” The voice was unfamiliar, accented but the language was correct. Amadeus reached up and grabbed a headset, dragging it down to point the microphone boom towards his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Amadeus Prower, at South Island.” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prower, who’s in charge there?” the voice asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prower, we are here to help you. We have successfully intercepted </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of your missiles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you?” The fox asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Sabre,” A new voice broke in. “Of the Knuckles Tribe. What they are saying is true. I am standing on a military orbital station, orbiting Mobius. Your missiles have been shot down.” The revelation made the two foxes look at each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did you get the technology to do that?!” Rosemary asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is not ours.” Sabre said. “The watchers however have maintained this system ever since they identified your atomic capabilities taking shape. They have fought like we have, among ourselves but brought their conflict to a peaceful end long ago. And they are here with me to do the same for us. The watchers are an alien race situated far away. They call themselves </span>
  <em>
    <span>humans</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter 1</b>
</p><p>
  <b>2 Belvoir Terrace</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cambridge, United Kingdom</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Friday, 19 August 2107</b>
</p><p>“Miles.” A quiet, Swede-accented female voice broke the silence. A reflexive opening of the eyes did the rest. A dark haired human woman stood at the foot of the waking vulpinoid’s bed, then walked around to the left side, holding something out. He recognised it almost immediately as his phone. “Your father’s been calling all morning, he left a visual for you on his last attempt. Get into something reasonable, you have your Results Day today.” </p><p>“Yes, Mrs. Robotnik.” Miles Prower acknowledged, stretching his gold furred arms out. He yawned and took his phone carefully. “Thank you.” Shaking his head, the fourteen-year old unlocked his phone and went into its voicemail application. Several missed calls, one visual voicemail as she said from a number that he recognised, a number belonging to a particular office at the Ministry of Defence in Whitehall. He sighed and hit the play button, setting the phone down in his lap as a projection of a similarly gold furred fox appeared, a black patch over his left eye. He was dressed in the uniform of a field marshal of the British Army. Though in contrast his accent seemed more Germanic compared to the young lad’s East Anglian English.</p><p>“I see you must be sleeping in today, I suppose there is no harm in it.” The other fox said. “Today’s your Results Day, I expect you will have exceeded my expectations. Of course your mother, were she still here, would be proud. Though once you’ve gotten your results, I’ll need for you to get back in touch. We need to discuss your military service obligations. I’ve got a slot for you at Sandhurst and we’ll want to get cracking on it as soon as we can. Give my regards to-” At that, Miles stopped the playback and grumbled, getting out of bed and stretching before changing into a blue raglan polo shirt, black jeans, white socks and red trainers. As always it took a little bit of finessing to get his <em> two </em> tails through the slot in the back of his jeans. Once that was accomplished, he slipped his phone into his pocket, then grabbed his wallet, putting that into the other. Finally, he grabbed his Cambridge Academy of Science &amp; Technology lanyard and put it around his neck before leaving his bedroom, going downstairs.</p><p>At the foot of the stairs, a blonde haired human woman was waiting for him, dressed in a white blouse with a blue ribbon tied under her collar, black leggings and a white labjacket with University of Cambridge Medical School embroidered in blue along with her name; Maria Robotnik. She held out a paper bag to the fox, which he took, then picked up a cardboard drinks carrier, leading him out the open front door into the warm and sunny front yard.</p><p>“Is this Coffee Tree?” Miles asked.</p><p>“Indeed it is,” Maria stopped for a moment and gently pressed a finger to the vulpine’s nose. “I heard it was someone’s Results Day.”</p><p>“Really? You didn’t have to go out of your way to see me.” The fox’s muzzle flushed. “I mean aren’t you supposed to be in school today?”</p><p>“Second year medical students don’t really do much except sit in lectures and take notes. There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of truancy, eh?” The eighteen-year old led him around to the small car-park next door. Why wasn’t he with his father? Namely, when his mother died seven years ago, then General Sir Amadeus Prower was affected to the point where he considered taking his own life. Through quick action of his groundskeeper, ex-Colonel Jules Ogilvie, he was stopped and committed to a mental hospital until he could recuperate. With his commission on suspension, he had placed his son in the care of family friend Geralt Robotnik, a human physician and xenobiologist who helped stabilise his father during the momentous Contact Day in 2085. Geralt in turn decided the best environment was one closest to ‘home’ rather than his native Sweden, so the fox was packed off to England to live with the professor’s son, Poul, who lived in Cambridge with his wife Noomi and daughter Maria.</p><p>Since Contact Day, the former Kingdom of Acorn was temporarily occupied and administered by a multinational force until the United Kingdom was granted the right to annex it in 2087, under an agreement that would bring about the release of North Ireland, finally allowing Ireland as a whole to unify. As part of the process, the region received a new name: Kepler. Over time, it was modernised and the former holdings of the House of Acorn were divested and given either to the echidnas for reparations or put into the new treasury to help usher in the new age. Miles was born in 2092 at the Mobotropolis Central NHS Hospital. His father transferred into the British Army while his mother decided that teaching was more of her speed, which is why her death came as a shock in 2100, determined to be the result of an intricate revenge assassination by remnants of the old government. Ever since Contact Day, the major toadies of the Acornian government had not been seen or heard from since, making rumours bandy about until Acornian-flagged space vessels were found preying on the trade lanes into the unknown regions of the Kepler-22 system. They unwisely caught the attention of the space navies and ended up going to ground intermittently.</p><p>Maria Robotnik would be what one might call an eccentric in her ways. First meeting when he was eight and she was eleven, she seemed to act as if he was always known to her. To his chagrin, that came with pet names and dragging him away from his studies. As time went on and she developed into a teenager, two things happened: she took her GCSE examinations early, passing with top marks and she stood out to him with her looks. Blonde wavy hair, blue eyes and developing in certain ways that turned his head. And the close, affectionate bond that they had continued, yet they considered each other friends rather than family. Family was the rigid, cold-handed grip of his father but fortunately after he was declared fit and even promoted to field marshal, Amadeus wisely allowed his son to remain where he was, yet always spoke of the family’s obligation.</p><p>He was not required to go into any kind of service compulsorily and being fourteen, Kepler law defined him as an adult. Yet Amadeus had his eye set on getting his son into the British Army, while the two-tailed boy just wanted to go to the University of Cambridge to pursue a degree in electronic engineering. That was what got him placed in the Cambridge Academy of Science &amp; Technology. That and it certainly helped that Maria went there as well. She knew what his father had in store for him, and she certainly had her own words for it, most of them one would consider rude. Otherwise she seemed pleasant but whenever his father came into conversation, she could chain together foul language that would make a sailor faint. It made him sometimes wonder if that was part of why she never seemed to bring home a boyfriend, she was probably rather intimidating between that and the upbound trajectory of her studies. Though one wouldn’t think so at first if they saw her car. He opened the left side passenger door to her blue Ford Fiesta and settled in, engaging his safety belt while she got in on her side, placing his coffee in his lap.</p><p>“Do you plan on staying for awhile?” Maria asked as she inserted her key, a slight vibration throughout the frame indicating that the electric engine had achieved ignition.</p><p>“Not particularly, I just want to get my results.” Miles answered.</p><p>“I don’t blame you, even if it was better than primary school. Only one name I liked that they stuck on you and that was Tails.” Maria looked at herself in the rear view mirror.</p><p>“I thought you stuck that one on me.” The fox blinked.</p><p>“Did I? Well it was at least a nice name.”</p><p>“It certainly beat mutant, freak or X-Man. Actually, X-Man wasn’t too bad, it ranked above Toxic Avenger.”</p><p>“You are neither of the four! Drink your coffee and forget that rubbish.”</p><p>It took about six minutes for them to make their way south on the A1134 and then about another minute to squeeze into an appropriate parking spot. Maria waited as the fox got out and padded over to the brown main building. She sighed softly and picked up her cup to drink from it, gazing around the interior of the Fiesta. Textbooks, binders and notepads were scattered around in the backseats along with empty takeaway bags. Her stethoscope and lanyard hung from the post that her rear view mirror was attached to. She reached out and lowered the visor situated in front of her, looking at her face in the mirror before pushing the visor back into its folded position. Finally, Maria gave in and turned on the AM/FM radio, filling the void left by the near silence with a greatest hits station. Soon she was tapping her fingers against the dashboard in tune to the background music, finger tips coiling into fists that pounded against the plastic as the electric guitars kicked in, singing in sync with Shirley Manson. <em> Bend me, break me, anyway you need me, all I want is you, bend me, break me, breaking down is easy, all I want is you. </em></p><p>It seemed that she was lost in the music for the next three minutes as she was startled by the rapping of knuckles against the window of her front passenger door. Flinching, Maria turned the radio down and unlocked the doors to allow Miles to slip in. The fox tilted his head as he unfolded the papers that he carried back. His ears lowered down slightly as he offered them to her.</p><p>“9 in Mathematics, 4 in Art &amp; Design, 8 in English Language, 8 in English Literature, 9 in Physical Science, 9 in Electronics, 9 in Information Technology, 4 in Music, 7 in History, 7 in Swedish Language, 8 in Japanese Language. GCSEs are out of the way.” Maria looked further down. “You passed the A-level exams for Mathematics, Further Mathematics, Physics <em> and </em> Computer Science?!” Her face flushed. “Why the long face then?”</p><p>“Take a wild guess.” Miles growled darkly, causing her to think for a few moments.</p><p>“He called you today, didn’t he?” Maria shook her head as she started the car.</p><p>“He wants me to go to Sandhurst, and he plodded on about the family obligation.” The fox murmured. “Part of me wishes I got a straight 4 across the board. I don’t want to go in the Army though.”</p><p>“I know, you want to go to university here.” Maria put the car in gear to pull out. “If he won’t budge on it, I’ll talk Mother into letting you stay while you get work. Or you could just live with me.”</p><p>“I couldn’t do that to either of you.” The fox’s ears shot up as his face grew hot. “There’s middle ground, I thought about it. He wants me to fulfill the family obligation, fine. But I’m having my cake and eating it too. There’s just somewhere I need to be to get started, I found it by computer. 2 Glisson Road.”</p><p>“Glisson Road,” Maria blinked. “The Armed Forces Career Office? But if you’re not going into the Army.”</p><p>“I don’t want to be mugging about in the dirt like he did. There’s one branch that’ll suit what I want to do and they’ll surely take me as an officer candidate with these scores.” Miles said. “I’ll go into the RSN.” Maria’s face froze but she was still focused on driving.</p><p>“If that’s what you want to do, I’ll take you there. And when they accept you, where would they send you?” she asked.</p><p>“Dartmouth. Britannia Royal Naval College. Wait, when?”</p><p>“It’s not going to be an if. Just promise me two things, Miles.”</p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p>“When they accept you, let me take you out there. And make sure you write to me. Email or post.”</p><p>“That’s all?”</p><p>“That’s all.” Maria nodded. “I can tell your mind's made up on it.”</p><p>“Honestly,” Miles looked over at her. “I was expecting you to fight me tooth and nail on it. I’m surprised but also pleased you’re agreeable about it.”</p><p>“I’ll always be agreeable so long as you’re happy with things.” That made his muzzle flush.</p><p>“This is why I’m going to miss you.” he admitted. “I think I’ve started to get a spine because of you, <em> Doctor </em> Robotnik.”</p><p>“I’m not a doctor quite yet, <em> Mister </em> Prower. Soon to be a lieutenant I suppose, maybe commander.”</p><p>“Or maybe an admiral like that fox plush you carried about? Probably not, they make captains out of navigators and warfare officers. I work best behind a keyboard.”</p><p>“Just make sure you actually leave your keyboard when you can. Visit me sometime, make my foundation years interesting.”</p><p>“You won’t need me for that. I’m sure you’ll have an interesting time working in accident &amp; emergency.” The fox pointed out. “Unless you’re planning to change specialties. Dermatology perhaps? Work on your golf swing.”</p><p>“Dermatology?! You have some cheek on you Miles Anson Prower!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The process had begun with a scheduled computer based Service Recruiting Test, then a short informal interview at the AFCO in Cambridge. After that, Miles found himself poked, prodded and ran through a battery of medical tests by a Ministry of Defence attached doctor, then physical fitness testing before he went for another interview, and then finally being greenlit to proceed to HMS <em> Sultan </em> for the Admiralty Interview Board. This consisted of a three hour journey south on the A3 highway, skirting around the western edge of London. He had a fitness test, followed by a teamwork test, then a planning exercise before finally sitting before a panel of two officers. Once he had gotten back to Cambridge, the vulpinoid had checked his email and was informed that he had orders to report to Britannia Royal Naval College in Dartmouth on 5 September. Another car trip, this time for four hours placed the fox and the human at their destination a day early. To his surprise, she had booked rooms for two at The Ship in Dock Inn.</p><p>“I thought you needed to go back.” Miles said after they were settled in.</p><p>“This is more important than class.” Maria explained. “This will be the second time that you will have left for an unfamiliar place. I wanted you to have one day with someone familiar to you-“</p><p>“In close quarters with one of the oddest girls I have ever known.” The fox twitched his ears. “No, I’ll amen that, <em> the </em> oddest girl I have ever known.” He smiled at the human, who wrapped her arms around his stomach from behind. “You didn’t have to do all of this though, I would have gotten by on my own.”</p><p>“That doesn’t mean you should have to.” Maria rested her chin between the fox’s ears. “But you are right about one thing, I am odd. A little bit unbalanced too. Honestly I give that impression because I’m always so nervous around you.”</p><p>“Nervous? Have I done-“</p><p>“No! It’s just that, well..do you remember when we saw each other when you moved in?” Maria asked. “Seven years ago.”</p><p>“How could I forget it? You had a death grip around me almost like this.”</p><p>“Do you believe in fate?” Maria pressed.</p><p>“Fate? The idea that events are predetermined?” The fox raised his ears and tilted his head. “Not really, it’s not compatible with physics. Especially when you get down to the quantum level, the uncertainty principle in itself shreds the idea.”</p><p>“Fair, but I think in some way it can manifest.” Maria raised her eyes. “I was such a nervous wreck at that time, I was a lot like you, shutting myself in and just paying attention to my schoolwork. Then you came about, my parents said I was a whole other person afterwards.”</p><p>“Being an only child can be rather daunting.” Miles pointed out.</p><p>“It’s not that,” She bit her lip. “In fact it’s hard to explain, nor is it the right time I suppose, for that or for what I’m going to tell you next. But I have to get this out otherwise I’m going to fall apart.”</p><p>“What is it?” The fox raised his head further up, looking at the human’s face.</p><p>“This is rather awkward, even with you being in majority.” Maria closed her eyes, face flushing. “I’m such an idiot.”</p><p>“Far from it.” Miles shook his head in disagreement.</p><p>“Oh yes I am. I’ve been in love with a boy that I’ve known since I was eleven. And I’m the idiot for not saying it earlier.” Her eyes darted down to gauge his reaction. He faced forward, ears raised all the way up, eyes widened, tails immobile.</p><p>“With me?! I’ve never taken you as a practical joker type Maria.”</p><p>“It’s no joke.”</p><p>“I’m a freak of nature.”</p><p>“Far from it.”</p><p>“Three years younger than you.”</p><p>“Not so large of a gap as for some.”</p><p>“And I’m going to be away for a year, if not longer.” He lowered his ears.</p><p>“I have to finish medical school anyways, plus the time would probably help with certain elements.” Maria admitted.</p><p>“You certainly have a way with timing.” Miles rumbled softly.</p><p>“With everything going on it seems like I’m constantly running out of it.” Maria admitted.</p><p>“And this explains why you never brought anyone home.”</p><p>“Who could compete with a hyper-intelligent young man, a soon-to-be space naval officer to boot?”</p><p>“I thought perhaps when I was older, but I also didn’t think I would ever measure up-“</p><p>“That had better not be another segue into ‘mutant freak’ territory.” Maria reached up and rubbed the back of the vulpine’s head. “I don’t care if you have one tail, two tails or several.”</p><p>“Fair.” His ears twitched. “I’ll think about it. You might not get an answer for some time. But I’ll think about it.”</p><p>“I can only ask that at least.” Maria nodded. “And no matter what you decide, I’ll respect it.”</p><p>“I know.” He gently broke away and rose up to his feet, but then turned and wrapped his arms around her head. “You have done me many kindnesses, Maria. But I have to take flight for a bit, I have to be on my own to understand it all.”</p><p>“Just be careful.” Maria squeezed on his arm. “No training accidents. And-“</p><p>“Write to you, yes I’ll still write to you.” The fox nodded and let go of her. “Come on, I’ll get you dinner.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Monday, 5 September 2107</b>
</p><p>When Maria woke up, daylight was shining through the blinds. Sitting up, she groaned while stretching, then looked around in confusion. There was no sign of the fox anywhere and with the way her mouth felt, she couldn’t completely blame him. Maria picked up her phone and unlocked it, first checking her email. The first message that she found was puzzling, a receipt for the inn. It was already paid up, in cash. To her embarrassment, she realised that the fox had taken care of the bill, even dinner. Fragmented memories started to seep in through the cracks, she had let loose and gotten drunk. Enough to where she had to be walked into their room, enough to get a severe headache. She was still dressed in what she wore yesterday as well, though her shoes were off. Closing her eyes partially, she switched out of her email and got into her messages.</p><p>Did you make it to the naval college?</p><p>Yes, can’t text right now, I’m about to go into formation.</p><p><em> I’m such an idiot </em> . Maria leaned back into her pillows, then grabbed the one beside her, smacking it against her forehead, groaning into it. <em> Fantastic, you spilled your guts out to him and got yourself the drunkest you’ve ever been. </em> Looking around, she saw a glass of water and a bottle containing a common over-the-counter anti-inflammatory on the nightstand. Maria reached for the bottle first, unscrewing the cap off. Recognising it, she spilled two capsules out into the palm of her hand and set the bottle down, taking the capsules with the full glass of water. After screwing the cap back on, she pocketed the bottle and got out of bed. The first thing she would do is get a shower, change clothes, eat and then leave. She grabbed her phone again and rested against a wall, going into her photos application.</p><p>She hadn’t kept the same phone forever, there were occasional failures or accidents that necessitated replacement. But Maria kept her data offloaded in a storage system attached to her email as well as regular backups, especially where her notes were concerned. Going all the way back to 2100 when her album first began there were snapshots of places around Cambridge, the family dog, a senior black male Newfoundland that her parents had gotten for her from a shelter that she had named Shadow. But many of the photos were with her and the young fox and memories came with them. Both of them seeing <em> Star Wars </em> for the first time at the Arts Picturehouse, a Halloween snap where she went as Jyn Erso and he was a Rebel Alliance starfighter pilot. They were going their separate ways now, he was dead set on his path and went on it with a tenacity few would notice.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Britannia Royal Naval College</b>
</p><p>“Welcome to Britannia Royal Naval College.” The college commander, Captain Jonathan Kent declared from the top of the steps that led into the main building. He didn’t require a microphone to carry his voice as he had developed the loud carriage needed in his command career, last commanding aboard the cruiser HMSS <em> Belfast </em> . He was one of the few that transitioned from the Royal Navy into its spacefaring sister service after it came into being in 2096. The transition was a challenge but he took it readily, having previously served in submarines as the final commanding officer of the ballistic missile submarine HMS <em> Dreadnought </em> which was brought into service seventy-seven years ago. In fact, BAE Systems came ready and prepared for the new service by putting together BAE Systems Spacecraft with personnel crossed over from BAE Systems Submarines as well as BAE Systems Surface Ships with assistance from Westland as well as the Defence Science &amp; Technology Laboratory.</p><p>Kent looked to each officer cadet, who were arranged in rows in alphabetical order. They were a hodgepodge of humans as well as Keplerians. In the second to last row, he noticed one particular cadet whose name stood out when he had first examined the new rolls. Miles Prower, son of Field Marshal Amadeus Prower. It seemed that his placement was on his own initiative, there was no pushing from the old boys network. Next to him was another Keplerian, a marble coloured fox who he recognised as Arrow Rinehart. He clasped his hands behind his back before continuing.</p><p>“You will be the thirty-third class to attend this college for the Royal Space Navy. But this building has stood for the last two-hundred and forty-four years. It has been the site where officers have been made for sea duty for eight wars, two of them world wars. The cadets that have passed through these doors and complete their courses successfully leave here as sub-lieutenants, but they may leave the service years later as admirals. Once you are done here though, learning does not stop. What we impart upon you here is not the end all be all. We will give you the tools for becoming an effective leader, but it is you who must wield them. You may be in charge of ratings and other officers but never forget that naval service is a team effort. When making a decision, whether it’s something as vast as deciding tactics for a battle, or something as small as putting someone on report, ask yourself this question: Is this ultimately in the best interest of the Service? You must conduct yourself with integrity and treat all above, lateral and below you with respect. Every member of this service is a volunteer, they are giving their time and skills in the interest of the national defence.” Kent looked around, watching his words sink into the cadets. “There will be a class intake photograph which will be available to you in TRAINNET. You will be assigned your tablets and quarters, then we will have a walkaround tour of the college so that you are familiar with the layout. Any questions can be directed to your division’s chief petty officer. You will now turn about face, which means you will turn completely around. About face!”</p><p>The group slowly turned clockwise to face the opposite direction where a rating set up with camera equipment was waiting. Once a prearranged signal was made, the photograph was taken. A whistle blew as the division chief petty officers took the field, holding their tablets as they went through the line alphabetically. Miles waited and looked over at Rinehart who nodded at the other fox.</p><p>“Prower! St. Vincent Division. Rinehart! St. Vincent Division.” The chief petty officer for St. Vincent division called out. The two foxes broke from the ranks and followed the chief petty officer to a single file line of which they were again arranged in alphabetical order.</p><p>“So what are you specialising in?” Rinehart asked quietly while they waited.</p><p>“Information warfare, yourself?” Miles asked.</p><p>“Science.” Rinehart replied. “I think we’ll get on well then.”</p><p>“Yeah. I see you’ve got a lot of tails. I thought I was the only one with polycaudality.”</p><p>“My parents were just as surprised!” Rinehart smiled.</p><p>“I guess I’m not so much of a mutant freak after all.” Miles murmured quietly.</p><p>“Where’re you from?”</p><p>“Cambridge, though I originally lived on Kepler. You?”</p><p>“Kepler. The Mystic Ruins in fact.”</p><p>“So what made you join the RSN?!” Miles raised his ears.</p><p>“I’ve been around so many rocks on-world that I wanted to get off. You like football?”</p><p>“Watching it, but as far as playing it my feet are made of clay. I prefer the chessboard. What kind of science catches your fancy?”</p><p>“Geology.”</p><p>“Ah, so it’s just the rocks at home aren’t as interesting. You know I consider myself something of a sciences man myself. Physics largely, especially where signals are concerned. I was going to go in for electronic engineering possibly with a minor in physics before I decided to enter here.”</p><p>“You know you can still pursue a degree while in, right? Navy’ll even pay for it.”</p><p>“I might just do that, it’d fill any free time gap.”</p><p>“Well I hope you do at least go out to the pub with me every so often.” Rinehart clapped the other fox on the back. “No bird?”</p><p>“There might be.” Miles dwelled back upon leaving Maria at the inn. “I just don’t know yet. We both have our studies to do and she’s well, older by about three years.”</p><p>“Nothing terribly wrong with that.”</p><p>“I mean she’s human and, here-” Miles got his phone out and brought up his photos application. “See for yourself.” Rinehart gazed at the screen and raised his ears.</p><p>“That’s <em> her </em>?! Mate, she’s a solid ten.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s the trouble. Why go for me? I’m just well, average and alien.”</p><p>“I see I’m going to have my work cut out for me as your wingman, Mr. Prower.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Plymouth, United Kingdom</b>
</p><p>After a shower and a change of clothes, Maria finally packed up and left The Ship in Dock Inn but instead of returning to Cambridge, she instead got on the Devon Expressway, following her phone’s mapping system to Pilgrim House, situated on Derry’s Cross in the south of Plymouth. Opening her tablet, she sat in her Fiesta, updating documents while parked. Once she was done, she grabbed her labjacket and got out, putting it on, ensuring that her identification tag was attached. With a quick look in the mirror, she walked around the front of the car to the door of the Armed Forces Careers Office. She made her way towards a booth where a Royal Space Navy intake specialist sat.</p><p>“Good morning, can I help you?” The specialist asked.</p><p>“I’d like to join the service as a medical officer.” Maria said.</p><p>“Ah, right. Still in school?” The specialist pointed towards her school identification.</p><p>“That’s correct, though I’m due to finish next year.”</p><p>“Just a moment then.” The specialist pulled up some documents. “The last intake class at Britannia Royal Naval College is actually starting today so you’ll have to wait for the next intake.”</p><p>“That’s fine, I just took my b-..friend to his intake there.” Her cheeks pinkened.</p><p>“Well we could always use more medical officers. The good thing though is there’s a couple perks of entering as a medical officer. Your intake is quicker as you’ve essentially done your technical training in medical school. You also commission as a Surgeon Lieutenant rather than a sub-lieutenant.” The specialist advised. “Once you’re done with intake, you’ll be assigned to the Joint Hospital Group Unit on Space Station ARK for the foundation years of your specialisation, then you can request shipboard service. What were you planning to specialise in?”</p><p>“Emergency medicine.”</p><p>“Well you’ll certainly get a good dose of that, pardon the pun. A GDMO is expected to be able to serve not only as a GP but also as an emergency physician and surgeon all together. I’ll need a copy of your current transcript and you’ll need to send your final one up before intake.”</p><p>“I figured you would request that,” Maria held up her tablet.</p><p>“Then let’s go ahead and get you onto the RSN site and begin your application, Dr. Robotnik.”</p><p>After working on her application, Maria noticed that she had gotten a new email from her academic advisor.</p><p>From: <a href="mailto:aziegler@medschl.cam.ac.uk"> aziegler@medschl.cam.ac.uk</a><br/>To: <a href="mailto:mrobotnik@cam.ac.uk"> mrobotnik@cam.ac.uk</a><br/>Subject: Emergency Medicine Student Exchange<br/>Date: 2107.09.05<br/><br/>Maria,<br/>I’m pleased to inform you that you have been accepted for the student exchange programme at the R Adams Cowley Shock Trauma Centre in Baltimore. This exchange rotation will count for clinical experience. If you wish to proceed, let me know and we will make arrangements for housing at the University of Maryland. You would observe and participate in procedures typically encountered in Foundation Year One under the supervision of an intern and a resident. Clinical time would be four days a week with one day for virtual instruction and two days off.</p><p>Regards,<br/>Dr. Angela Ziegler</p><p>Professor of Emergency Medicine, University of Cambridge Medical School<br/>Clinical Lead: Emergency Medicine, Addenbrooke’s Hospital</p><p>The reply came quickly</p><p>From: <a href="mailto:mrobotnik@cam.ac.uk"> mrobotnik@cam.ac.uk</a><br/>To: <a href="mailto:aziegler@medschl.cam.ac.uk"> aziegler@medschl.cam.ac.uk</a><br/>Subject: Re: Emergency Medicine Student Exchange<br/>Date: 2107.09.05<br/><br/>Dr. Ziegler,<br/>I’ll be more than happy to proceed with the exchange programme at Shock Trauma.<br/><br/>Regards,<br/>Maria V. Robotnik<br/>Year 2 Medical Student, University of Cambridge Medical School</p><p><br/><em> If for some reason the Royal Space Navy won’t take me, I could just continue on with my foundation training. Perhaps Shock Trauma would take me on. </em> Maria thought. The R Adams Cowley Shock Trauma Centre, (generally shortened to ‘Shock Trauma’) was one of the most prestigious institutions to train for emergency medicine. Of course if she were to proceed to foundation training there, she would have to be certified by the state of Maryland to practice medicine formally. Everything seemed to be coming together and after the intake specialist confirmed her application was sent in, she left the AFCO vibrating with energy. Against her better judgement she was going to indulge in a large butterscotch frappe. Her stomach rumbled as she got into the car. A large butterscotch frappe and a spicy curry sounded like a better idea.</p>
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